Representing the Kashmir Conflict in Contemporary Art

As Kashmir’s unofficial poet laureate, Agha Shahid Ali often spoke, in his writings, to both the region’s complicated history and its more recent political quagmire. His words captured the ways in which the ethnic and religious divides that have shaped its past are now amplified by the presence of both Indian and Pakistani military forces. Ali also illustrated the ways in which communal religious tensions have increasingly turned neighbours into strangers and childhood friends into enemies. Kashmir, a once princely state, is now marred by conflict and politically divided among Pakistan, India, and China. The dispute over its statehood is now over seventy years old and the region, as Indian writer Arundhati Roy points out, is the scene of “one of the deadliest and densest military occupations in the world.”Arundhati Roy, “How to Think About Empire,” interview by Avni Sejpal, Boston Review: A Political and Literary Forum, January 3, 2019, https://bit.ly/2seWerg. My own family history is deeply embedded in the grand narrative of Partition and Kashmir’s history. Leading up to the upheaval, my maternal grandparents lived in the summer capital of Srinagar, and they bore the memories of slain relatives and communal violence for the rest of their lives. For years after Partition, my grandmother actively searched for her missing sister, believing that she had survived a massacre (one of the dozens that occurred at that time), to no avail. The loss of female relatives is a common, yet not widely known, historical aspect of Partition. In recent years, a variety of online and educational institutions have documented such family histories across the subcontinent; most notably, the 1947 Partition Archive has recorded, to date, approximately 5,500 individual narratives on its website. The toll of Partition and subsequent territorial wars on Kashmiris has continued to be unbearable. In Kashmir’s recent history, 2018 was the deadliest year, with 530 dead and thousands more blinded by pellets shot by the Indian army. Kashmiri journalist Majid Maqbool notes, “The conflict is sought to be managed from the central government in New Delhi, that dispatches interlocutors to hold meetings, buy some time, and talk to people, regional parties, and groups in Kashmir without making any headway towards a meaningful dialogue.”Majid Maqbool, “For Young Kashmiris, Idea of Peace is Pause Between Killings and Encounters,” The Globe Post, January 3, 2019, https://theglobepost.com/2019/01/03/kashmir-young-generation/. Kashmir was annexed to India by the British in 1947, and a referendum on self-determination has long eluded Kashmiris. Conflict has been the primary lens through which Kashmir and its culture have been understood since the cataclysm of the Partition. As historian Chitralekha Zutshi writes, “Representations of Kashmir… are the product of an ongoing exchange between the past and the present, myth and history, memory and forgetting, and the visual, oral and textual; they are also, as much, a product of an ongoing dialogue between self-representation and representations by outsiders.”Chitralekha Zutshi, “Introduction: New Directions in the Study of Kashmir,” in Kashmir: History, Politics and Representations, ed. Chitraleka Zutshi (London: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 12. It is perhaps the representations by outsiders — often rooted in larger colonial projects or the interests of nationalism — that continue to permeate across the globe. A number of Canadian contemporary artists have grappled with the conflict in Kashmir and Partition in South Asia, with some focusing on Partition and its lasting legacy, others on the Kashmir issue. A few major exhibitions, such as Lines of Control: Partition as a Productive Space (2012), have directly confronted the issue of Partition; many others look at national perspectives with works by artists wrestling with the ethnic, religious, and economic histories of the South Asian subcontinent. Rachel Kalpana James Borderline, 2010. Photos : permission de l’artiste | courtesy of the artist The active performance of the aftermath of Partition can be seen most clearly in Borderline (2010), a two-channel video by South Asian Canadian artist Rachel Kalpana James. In this piece, Kalpana James documents the daily performative (and undoubtedly, heavily militaristic) display of Indian and Pakistani army officials at the Wagah border, which is situated between Amritsar (India) and Lahore (Pakistan). Hundreds watch the dramatic performances on a daily basis, where Indian and Pakistani army officials, dressed in full regalia, march in concert to the opening and closing of the border gates. On the adjacent screen, we see a slow-motion video image of the artist walking and crossing the border with a Canadian passport. Borderline taps into a personal yet visceral experience. Kalpana James’s walk across the border shows the heightened tension between the two nations, but also the precariousness of the border, particularly for those affected by the conflict. The border holds a strong symbolic meaning for both countries. Walking across it cuts through imagined and practical experiences. For the artist, this experience is a reminder of the “surprisingly casual walk across the India/Pakistan border” that is “permitted by the bittersweet privilege of the right documentation.”/NOTE]“Modern Fuel Presents Rachel Kalpana James’ ‘Borderline,’” Modern Fuel (run by Modern Fuel Artist-Run Centre), www.modernfuel.org/art/programming/event/539. For Indian and Pakistani nationals, crossing the border is, at best, an exchange of visas, whereas holding a passport from Canada — a country still very much part of the Commonwealth — shows that these new divisions are still very much governed by old colonial laws and attitudes. In a more ironic approach, Winnipeg/New Delhi-based artist Divya Mehra’s project The Party is Over (2011) melds objects, food, and text to examine the “construction and misrepresentation of cultural identity while making reference to layered divisions and the disparity and exploitation of power.”“Exhibitions: The Party is Over,” Artspeak.ca, http://artspeak.ca/the-party-is-over/. Mehra’s assemblage of objects, heavy with intent, includes fake gold and silver watches (set to the standard times of India and Pakistan), nineteenth-century British parlour tables, and a custard-filled sheet cake. As writer Joni Low points out, “The minimal presentation of these works belies their conceptual complexity — each are jokes with protracted punch lines, hints of which are buried in undisplayed titles and descriptions that read like ad-libbed artist statements, but not immediately accessible.”“Serious Play: Joni Low on Diya Mehra’s The Party is Over,” www.divyamehra.com/essays/?entry4. When we read these objects together, however, the dryness of Mehra’s wit reveals the hollow yet incredibly laughable situations that contemporary politics, particularly at this political moment, can produce. Divya MehraThere’s just not enough to go around (day 6 of 72) ; (day 71 of 72), 2011.Photo : Blaine Campbell, permission de | courtesy of the artist & Georgia Scherman Projects, Toronto The viewer understands that the party is truly over when the cake, titled There’s just not enough to go around (2011) slowly disintegrates, cracks, and rots. Decorated with a rendering of Kashmir’s state borders and lined with sprinkles, it “takes the form here of cheap excess and empty calories” and is never eaten.Ibid. Although the nutritionally deficient, sugary cake may look appealing and is indeed good enough to eat, the disappointment that follows its eventual rot is a stark reminder of the unfulfilled promises of independence for the Kashmiri people. Vancouver-based Canadian artist Althea Thauberger’s piece titled “Who is it that can tell me who I am?” (2012) is a mural featuring the Akingam Bhand Pather theatre troupe. The group, which is based in the village of Akingam in South Kashmir, is shown performing an adapted and translated version of Shakespeare’s King Lear. The size of the photographic mural provides a clear image not only of the play’s performers but also of the Kashmiri villagers who are also spectators and subjects of the work. Curator and writer Rose Bouthillier argues that although the viewer may initially consider Kashmir’s current political turmoil, or even the nature of the question posed by the work, it is the nearly life-sized scale of the mural that is integral. By confronting the audience, the individuals in the photograph “are the first to be met when walking along the mural from left to right; most face out into the gallery, with gazes scattered in multiple directions.”“Althea Thauberger,” http://www.altheathauberger.com/texts/althea-thauberger-4. Althera Thauberger"Who is it that can tell me who I am ?", 2012Photo : permission de l’artiste | courtesy of the artist The folk tradition of Bhand Pather, which roughly translates as “artist” and “drama,” has a long history in Kashmir and has been used primarily as a means of conveying social and political messages to audiences. The multiple gazes present within Thauberger’s mural provide an immersive experience of the outdoor performance. The work’s scale also gives viewers a sense of the Kashmiri urban landscape, one that has long been absent in the predominantly nature-oriented depictions of the region. Bouthillier is correct in surmising that the question of “Who can tell me who I am?” is as much about the polarized nature of Kashmir’s freedom movement as it is about King Lear. Sadly, the conflict in the region continues. It is a dispute that shows no signs of abating, especially since much of the resolution requires negotiations between two heavily militarized nuclear powers. The attention given to the Kashmir conflict and the lasting history of Partition through contemporary art provides insight into nuances rather than current polemics. Through the works discussed in this essay, we are provided with a glimpse of what is at stake in South Asian socio-political life, and how artists have documented facets of Partition and the Kashmir conflict through personal, performative, and documentary works. These artists are part of a broader movement of individuals — particularly South Asian artists — who have looked closely and consistently at the communal issues that have faced the South Asian subcontinent since independence from the British. Mehra, Kalpana James, and Thauberger do not offer a romanticized version of Kashmir or its mountainous landscape; rather, they tease out the conflict to express a more personal experience informed by regional politics but not dominated by it. Although conflict is certainly a focal point in understanding Kashmir and its current troubles, it isn’t a shorthand way of coming to terms with the region’s long and complicated history. Divya MehraHere’s to Us (Who wore it best?), (gauche | left) India Standard Time, (droite | right) Pakistan Standard Time, 2011.Photos : Blaine Campbell, permission de | courtesy of the artist & Georgia Scherman Projects, Toronto Traduit de l’anglais par Sophie Chisogne Althea Thauberger, Divya Mehra, Nadia Kurd, Rachel Kalpana James

Representing the Kashmir Conflict in Contemporary Art

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